


A Collection of Jydia One Shots and Fluff

by whichlights



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: But I ship them, F/M, and yes he is dead, i call it jydia you should ship it, join me in my trash can, okay yes he only was mentioned five times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6455272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichlights/pseuds/whichlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluff. Just fluff with my sunshine angel and the love of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reaction Time

**Author's Note:**

> five four three two  
> i ship them and you should too

Lydia walked into training that day like it was any other normal day. The target was set up at the far wall, her knives were strapped to her belt, and her hair was pulled out of her face in a ponytail. She narrowed her eyes and focused. 

_Breathe._ She commanded herself. _Throw on the exhale._

The knife left her fingers and hit the target, a single ring away from a bullseye. She cursed softly and pulled out another knife. 

This one hit the bullseye, barely. Lydia growled and grabbed a third. “Come on, Branwell.” She muttered. 

Someone cleared their throat. Lydia spun around, knife in hand. A boy her age was leaning against the doorway, runes standing out against his light brown skin. His hair was reddish brown, and more brown than red. His eyes were dark brown. She stared at him for a few seconds before he spoke.

“Well, that reaction time was abysmal.”

Lydia glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve been watching you for a few… maybe ten minutes now. You didn’t notice me.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to teach you some techniques? I just came from the _Paris_ Institute.” He said Paris like _pear-ee_. “I can teach you French fencing, French baking, French kissing…”

Lydia made a face. “No, thank you.” She turned away in a huff. 

The boy skipped- actually _skipped_ -down to her. “Okay, that might have been inappropriate. I’m John Monteverde. And you are?”

“Lydia Branwell. And as for my reaction time-” Lydia threw her knife, and it made a perfect bullseye, which was a good show of her point. “I bet I’m faster than _you_.”

“Oh yah?” John said it like a challenge. “Prove it.” 


	2. Training

Lydia threw her _stick_ at the ground with exasperation. “I’m done!” She declared.

“What’s wrong, _mon ange_?” The new boy, John, asked, removing himself from his casual position against the wall.

“I hate staffs.” Lydia muttered. “Why is this required? If I’m ever in a situation with a stick as a weapon, I can break it to make it sharp.”

John leaned down and picked up her staff, twirling it in his brown hands, and smiled as he tossed it from hand to hand. “A bit heavier than the one I’m used to, but a good weapon.” He grinned.

“You use that glorified tree branch? Explains a lot.” Lydia snorted and went to take it back. John jumped backwards and grabbed another one off the wall, tossing it to her. She caught it and stared at it. “What?”

“I’ll help you.” John shrugged.

“Why would you help me? I thought you hated me…”

“I don’t hate you.” John blinked. “I think you’re pretty aggravating and full of yourself, and slightly insufferable. But I don’t hate you.”

“Good to know.” Lydia rolled her eyes and held her staff at the ready. John struck first and the crack of wood hitting wood reverbed around the Institute training room.

 


	3. Sick Day

John sneezed. Lydia stroked his hair out of his face- his forehead was clammy. “Sh.” She whispered. She spooned a bit of chicken soup into his mouth.

“I’m not sick, mon ange.” John grinned, his dark eyes fever bright.

“Yes you are, John Monteverde, and you’re going to sit there until you’re over this little virus.” Lydia crossed her arms and glared at him.

“But… I have to help out… there’s training, and hunting, and-“

“It can all wait until you feel better.” She declared and shoved another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

John swallowed and closed his eyes. Finally, he opened them, and asked, “Can I braid your hair?”

“What?” Lydia asked, caught off guard. “Wait, you know how to braid?”

“Of course I do. I braid Kate’s all the time.” He snorted. “Come here.”

Lydia scooted over, closer to him, and he pulled her down on top of him. “Ack!” Lydia yelped. “John!”

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound very sorry. Lydia sat up and undid her plain ponytail. John brushed her hair out of her face with scarred fingers and started braiding her hair down the side of her head.

“One of these days, you’re going to tell me what mon ange means.” Lydia said off handedly. John smirked. “Mon ange.” He corrected her pronunciation. “And maybe someday. But today is not that day.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and placed her hands in her lap, waiting patiently while a slightly ill Monteverde braided her hair. His touch was oddly calming, though the slight tugs of hair that pulled her head each and every way, she could live without.

“All done.” John said far too soon.

“Really?” Lydia ran her hand down the braid. She caught her reflection in a mirror on the wall. “I love it.” She whispered.

“Well, then, mission accomplished.” John coughed into his arm. “You better go do Shadowhunter things.”

Lydia nodded and found she was sad to leave.


	4. Paperwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im trying to keep these somewhat in chronological order but it doesnt help when i WRITE them out of order

Lydia put her face in her hands and gave a muffled scream.

“Everything alright?” John asked, twirling his bow (the horse hair kind he used for his cello, not a weapon) like a baton.

“There is so much paperwork!” She groaned and hit her head against the desk, disrupting the said paperwork and sending entire folders to the ground. “I’ve been at this for five hours already, and now there’s more!”

“You seem pretty stressed. Relax.” John put the bow by the lamp on the table beside his chair, uncrossing his legs and standing up gracefully. “Do you… well… I mean… I could give you a massage?”

Lydia sat up and looked at her fiancé. “What?”

John shrugged, his face starting to turn ever so slightly red. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…”

“No, it’s fine. That’d be nice, actually.”

John grinned and stood behind Lydia, and started rubbing her shoulders. Lydia exhaled and stared at the mountain of paperwork in front of her. “The best part is, this is a one time deal.” John chattered away cheerfully. Lydia smiled at the sound of his voice. “You just do all this, and then it’ll all get easier.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You don’t have to change your citizenship to report a demon attack from the head of the Lisbon Institute.” John kissed the top of her blonde head. “We’re almost there, mon ange.”

“Hmm.” Lydia murmured, leaning into John’s embrace. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	5. Hello Again

Lydia Branwell was coming home from a hunt, unhurt but covered in demon blood. She wiped sweat off of her forehead, and saw a lanky shape on the steps of the Institute. Her seraph blade at the ready, she approached it slowly.

Straight and messy russet hair, dangling in front of closed eyes and a twitching nose. A soft mouth that mumbled incoherent nonsense, but always came back to the name _Lydia._

Lydia put her hand over her mouth to hide her shriek. “John?” She whispered, dropping her seraph blade with a clatter. She kneeled beside him, holding his head. “John?”

She shook his head hard, messing up his already hopeless hair. “John!”

Slowly, he cracked open his chocolate eyes. “Don’t fret, _mon ange_.” John Monteverde rasped.

Lydia hugged him tight, feeling thin ribs under his tattered grey shirt. She stood up, helping him up and he wobbled over her. She helped him walk into the Institute, and called out, “Help!”

“ _Mon ange, vous m'avez manqué plus de mots peut dire_.” John mumbled, tripping over his French. “Sh, sh.” Lydia whispered. “Save your voice.”

John nodded slightly as Lydia dragged him to the infirmary, the other Shadowhunters running around and yelling. Lydia ignored them. All there was was John. He was all that mattered. He was hurt, he was shaking, he was thin, he was _alive_.

Lydia sat him down on a bed in the Institute infirmary. John stumbled, and still managed to give Lydia a fumbling kiss on the forehead. “ _Mon ange,_ the sky is spinning.” That was the last thing he said before his eyes rolled up into his head and he went unconscious.

“John!” Lydia panicked. She knew he had a healing rune on his shoulder blade- could it have been in a more unaccessible place? She shoved the collar of his dirty shirt down and traced her _stele_ over the faint mark. It glowed like brand new, and John let out a slight moan.

“Mon ange _.” He laughed, pushing hair out of his face. “I’m afraid that is actually not how you make cake.”_

 _“Yah, well,_ mon ange _, I’m afraid that’s not how you play cello!” Lydia snapped back good naturedly._

 _“Do you even know what_ mon ange _means?”_

_“No, because you never told me.” Lydia put her hands on her hips and looked at her boyfriend.  
_

_“It means ‘my angel’.” John’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Because I walked into the training room that day and thought to myself-_ that angel is going to rip my throat out.”

Lydia snapped out of her memory and clasped John’s hand. “Don’t die on me now, _mon ange.”_

John eventually fell into a smooth pattern of breathing that took Lydia a few moments to recognize as sleep. She kissed the top of his head and went to her room, and fell asleep on top of the covers.

—

Lydia woke up the next morning with John sitting patiently on the floor. He beamed at her. “Morning, _mon ange_!” Like he was never gone.

Lydia slapped him. 

“Ow!” John reeled away and clutched at his cheek. “What was that for?”

“How long have you been gone? Two years?” She screamed at him. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!”

“I can explain!” John promised. “I got kidnapped!”

“I nearly married someone else!”

John blinked. “Who? I’m going to fight him. I’m going to fight him so much-”

“It was a political arrangement.” Lydia found herself saying, and the tension in John’s shoulders eased tremendously. “Besides, he called it off.”

“Obviously.” 

Lydia slapped him again.

“Ow! Why do you keep doing that?”

“Where _were_ you?”

“Valentine’s secret hideout place.” John rubbed his face ruefully. “Okay, so he-”

Lydia kissed him. John immediately kissed her back, hands going to the back of her head and pulling her in.

“So, _mon ange_ , are we still on for that wedding?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to denial


	6. Coffee Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID SOMEONE SAY JYDIA AU

John Monteverde was sitting across from his best friend, Kate Whitedove, in Starbucks. Kate was sipping her pumpkin spice latte, her red hair in a messy bun, while John snorted at his common white girl friend. “Come on, Kate, I’m bored.” He complained. “It’s the first of April, anyways, why are you drinking that?”

Kate glared at him. John tapped his fingers on the table, knowing if he tried to play a prank on Kate, he would end up with a dislocated shoulder. He looked around, wondering if there was anyone who looked like they wouldn’t mind a harmless prank, when he saw a girl. He straightened up and pushed his hair out of his face, watching her as she ordered a blueberry muffin from the barista. Her hair was blonde and pulled out of her face in a ponytail, and her eyes were blue. Blonde and blue eyed.

Kate looked at him, confused, then followed his line of vision. “What are you doing?” She hissed as he stood up.

“Relax, I can take care of myself.” John hopped over to the girl, and said in a rush, “Hi, I’m John.”

She looked at him before saying, “My name is Lydia Branwell.”

“Lydia, will you take a picture with me like we just got engaged so I can post it on my Facebook for April fools?”

Lydia blinked at him with her blue eyes. “What?”

“Is that a no?”

“It’s… okay?” Lydia took a bite of her muffin as John pulled out his phone. He pulled her in for a hug, and snapped a selfie. “Thank you.” John grinned, and looked at the resulting picture. They actually looked ridiculously coupley. “Do you want me to ‘at’ you?” He asked as he typed out a post- _LOL just got engaged!1!_

“Sure. Here.” Lydia took his phone, typed something, and handed it back. “Maybe we can message later.”

“Maybe we can.” John grinned.


End file.
